


The Heart of The Thing

by Telaryn



Series: The Hero and The Bad Boy [7]
Category: Leverage, Marvel (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Crossover, Crossover Pairings, Deaf Character, Deaf Clint, Deaf Clint Barton, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Manipulation, Established Relationship, Gen, Headcanon, M/M, Past Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Questioning, Second Chances, Team Bonding, Team Dynamics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-04
Updated: 2013-01-04
Packaged: 2017-11-23 15:58:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/623933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Telaryn/pseuds/Telaryn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Quinn has an unexpected encounter with Steve Rogers that reveals his own buried issues with how he and Clint became a couple.  In the process Clint realizes he still has one more thing he hasn't dealt with.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Heart of The Thing

It felt like he was intruding just by being here, but as he watched Clint and Natasha sparring on the field below Quinn couldn’t put his finger on precisely _why_ he felt that way. He’d watched them train together before, and Clint had always been completely honest about Tasha being his preferred work out partner. “She pushes me in ways you either can’t or won’t,” he’d said – hastening to assure Quinn that given their relationship that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing.

“They’re impressive together, aren’t they?” Quinn glanced up sharply to see Steve Rogers - _Captain America_ \- standing at the observation railing a few feet down from him. Rogers was cradling a notebook in one hand and seemed to be making notes on what was going on down below.

Quinn nodded. At the edge of his vision he saw Natasha come in on Clint from the side and land a solid blow on his temple. Clint stumbled, and nearly went down, but recovered smoothly; pivoting so that a comfortable distance was restored between them. “Is he that dependent on his sight?” he asked, turning to watch them again. He hadn’t been surprised to see Clint wearing a blindfold as Natasha circled him. Quinn winced as she slipped to Clint’s other side and hit him again. What was startling was the amount of trouble Clint seemed to be having with the exercise.

“It’s definitely his strongest sense,” Rogers said, “but I suspect the lack of vision isn’t what’s giving him the trouble.” Quinn saw him wince as Tasha closed with her target and swept his legs out from under him. Clint went down hard enough that they could hear the slap as he struck the mat.

“What are you talking about?” Quinn asked. The comment was strange enough to overcome his natural tendency to remain tongue-tied in the presence of the legend. “What am I not seeing?”

The flash of embarrassed sympathy he saw in the other man’s expression clued him in to what he was about to hear, and Quinn felt his stomach flip over queasily. “Natasha’s been pushing him to train without his hearing aids,” Rogers said finally. “They’ve been working on and off since…” He blew out a sharp breath, clearly uncomfortable with the turn the conversation was taking. “Anyway. He’s been doing so well that she convinced him to try the blindfold this morning.”

In order to buy himself some time, Quinn turned his attention back to the scene below. Clint was sitting up, and had pushed the blindfold up off his eyes. He and Tasha were talking in low tones, oblivious to anything and everything else going on around or above them. 

Even at this distance, Quinn could tell his lover wasn’t happy with how the exercise had gone. “I knew he was going to be a challenge,” he said at last – not sure why he was suddenly talking when Rogers had given him such an easy out from confessing his side of things. “He’d already slipped free of some of the best in the business. Cross was desperate and willing to pay through the nose to get him.”

“Quinn…” Rogers said. Quinn looked up again – meeting the man’s eyes.

“I didn’t know,” he said. “I didn’t know what he wanted to do until it was too late to back out.” William Cross, an old nemesis of Clint’s had put a five million dollar bounty on the archer being delivered to him alive. It hadn’t been until deep in the job that Quinn had discovered the reason for the heavy emphasis on keeping Clint alive – the bounty went down by a full million dollars if Barton was dead. Cross had intended to amputate Clint’s left arm; leaving him alive, but taking away everything he valued, everything that made him who he was in the process.

“You told Nat that knowing wouldn’t have made a difference in you taking the contract.” The Captain’s expression was hard for Quinn to read, but he could sense that now he’d committed to them having the discussion Rogers wasn’t going to be inclined to let Quinn off the hook.

“No,” he admitted at last, feeling his shoulders slump. “No, it wouldn’t have.” _You can’t ask me to apologize for who I am._ From the moment things had started to change between them, Quinn had been the one insisting that Clint accept that in the same set of circumstances he likely would have made the same choice.

And now, faced with having to defend himself to somebody like Steve Rogers, he was finding himself doing the very thing he’d sworn he would never – could never do. _I can’t second guess my choices in this business._ It was how he survived, how he’d risen to the top of his field.

“Why did you go after his hearing aids?”

The answer was obvious to Quinn, but on some level he understood that the Captain needed to hear him say the words. “Easy psychological advantage. Everything in his file said that even if I could subdue him Barton wouldn’t stop fighting; wouldn’t stop trying to get away. I figured if I could cripple him even a little bit, make him dependent on me, it would give me an edge.” As much as he hated it, Quinn knew he’d been right to make the choice at the time. The IED that had taken out his jeep and Clint succumbing to heat stroke as quickly as he had were bonuses towards his goal that Quinn couldn’t have planned for.

“And his men?” Quinn flinched at the question, but managed to keep from dropping his gaze. He’d executed a full squadron of S.H.I.E.L.D. soldiers who’d been with Clint at the time he was taken, _after_ subduing them with the same knockout gas he’d used on Barton.

“They were S.H.I.E.L.D.,” he admitted finally. “They wouldn’t have stopped looking for him and I didn’t have the resources to hold them all off.”

Silence stretched between them. “He cares about you,” Rogers says at last. “More, I think, than he’s willing to let himself admit.”

“I didn’t plan on any of this,” Quinn said defensively. “I know it doesn’t make any sense. Tasha made sure there was no damage to my reputation – I should have counted my blessings and walked away… I shouldn’t have made the deal to turn over that intel…I shouldn’t have stayed…”

“Why did you?”

Quinn closed his eyes, cursing inwardly at how easily he’d let himself be distracted by Rogers. “Because,” he said finally, opening his eyes and turning to face Clint, who’d come up behind him; Natasha at his back. “Because I couldn’t stop thinking about you. And then when you wouldn’t tell me to leave…”

“I didn’t want you to go.”  
***********************  
Nat was the only thing keeping him from bolting – Clint could own that. Their workout had been extremely frustrating; she’d ruthlessly targeted every single one of his vulnerabilities and in the process made him doubt weeks of progress he’d made since they’d started the training.

When he’d seen Quinn on the observation deck he’d been relieved and happy to have somebody to go to, somebody who might be predisposed to listen to him whine for a bit about Natasha so thoroughly handing him his ass. He’d seen Cap on the deck as well, but it hadn’t occurred to him for a moment that they might be talking about…this.

“I think you’re lying to yourself,” Cap said, stepping into the awkward silence and drawing Quinn’s eye again. “I think that deep down you _do_ wish you could go back and erase what happened. At least that way the two of you would know for certain whether what you have is real or some sort of twisted mixture of regret, punishment and guilt…”

“Cap!”

Clint flinched at the heavy note of reproach in Nat’s voice. As Natasha Romanoff and Jonah Quinn counted such things, the two of them were friends. She’d never lied to him about who Quinn was or what Clint could expect from him; Nat _would_ never lie to him, especially not about something like this. For that matter Quinn had never lied to him. _Quinn_ had always made sure Clint never forgot who and what he was.

There was a rush of noise rising in his ears now. Clint was dimly aware that Quinn and Cap were speaking, but he’d lost the ability to hear what they were saying. Confused, he raised a suddenly shaking hand to his left ear to verify that his hearing aid was still in place on that side.

It was a complicated situation, and Clint knew he’d made it worse by months of refusing to admit that he couldn’t entirely reconcile his feelings for Quinn with everything the man had done to him – that aside from the one night he’d woken screaming in Quinn’s bed, he’d never really called his lover out on his actions or how he felt about what had happened.

He’d tried to tell himself that it didn’t matter, focus on who Quinn was now and how Clint felt about him in this moment and all the moments they could have in front of them. And now _Steve Rogers_ was laying it all out, stripping all the lies and self-delusion away and Clint couldn’t even hate him for it.

Because he wasn’t wrong. At all.

Clint wasn’t even aware that he’d lost time until he realized Nat was in front of him, gripping his arms and calling his name over and over again – trying to bring him back from wherever his mind had retreated. Cap and Quinn were watching him, but instead of coming forward to help him like Nat, Quinn had pulled away.

_”I’ve seen more than my fair share of PTSD. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out how this puzzle goes together.”_

He desperately wanted to be able to step back from the edge of the cliff he was standing on, wanted to reassure Quinn that this wasn’t a big deal…but Clint knew he would have been lying, and he realized in a rush that no one else would have believed him either. “Don’t leave me.” The words escaped him in a rush – he’d meant them for Quinn, but nothing seemed to be working properly in his head anymore.

“Nat.” He groped until his hand closed on her forearm. “Don’t let him leave. Don’t let him run. I…”

Her eyes were huge. “You have to talk to him, Clint. I may not approve of his timing, but Cap’s right. You’ve been dancing around this for too long, and when you have talked it’s been to the wrong people. Things are never going to be right between you two until you say what needs to be said.”

The panic rose up even further, threatening to choke him. “Nat, I…”

She pressed a cool hand against his cheek. “I’m not leaving you. Not unless you want me to go, but this isn’t fair to either of you.”

“Just say it.”

Clint raised his head, locking eyes with Quinn across the emotional and physical distance that separated the two of them. “You’re not going to hurt me anymore by telling me what a psychotic piece of shit I am than you already are by making me watch you tear yourself apart like this.” He shook his head, bitterness corrupting his handsome face. “Just say it, Clint. Jesus. Say it and put us both out of our misery.”

“He’s not the one who needs to speak up.” Clint knew he wasn’t the only one who was stunned by Cap’s statement. Three pairs of eyes turned towards Rogers almost in unison. “Look, you can feel free to tell me I’m wrong, but from where I sit, Clint’s not the one lying to himself. Not anymore.”

“What the hell do you want from me?” Quinn’s voice was softer than it should have been. Somehow Steve had gotten under his skin – Clint didn’t want to even begin to guess how – and this was suddenly no longer about “poor broken fucked up Clint”. Not entirely, at any rate.

Cap sighed. “I want you to admit that what you did bothers you. Not because it’s Clint, and you may or may not have feelings for him, but because you’re a decent guy and you know deep down you went too far.” He paused. “You’re not a psychotic piece of shit, Quinn, but those eight soldiers were helpless. Rationalize it all you want, but they didn’t have to die.”

 _They died because of me. They died so you could get to me._ It was the missing piece, the reason nothing they’d tried so far had entirely worked, and it had been buried so deep in Clint’s psyche he’d never even realized it was there. “God…” he muttered, forcing back the bile rising in his throat. “You didn’t even hesitate.”

Quinn flinched as if Clint had actually struck him. “I came in last, remember?” Clint asked, the memory now replaying in his mind. “Back of the pack, so the gas took a second or two longer to take me down.” He swallowed, feeling his gorge rise again, knowing he was going to be well and truly sick before this was done. “I was still conscious when you started shooting.”

Clint couldn’t have sworn how he knew, but he saw clearly in Quinn’s eyes that out of everything they hadn’t managed to say to each other, _this_ was the heart of it. Quinn had suspected Clint had seen what he’d done, but when Clint himself hadn’t brought it up he’d made the decision to stay quiet. “Steve calling you out must have taken ten years off your life,” he said quietly.

There was real pain in Quinn’s eyes now, even as he struggled to maintain control of his expression. “You know what I am, Clint. I made the call – I get to live with it.”

“But if you could change it,” Steve interjected before Clint could say anything, “knowing now what you know – would you make a different call?”

Clint felt Natasha shift next to him. He didn’t dare look at her, knowing that in his current emotional state that one glance would be his undoing. “There’s no point,” Quinn said – his voice still that soft, hollow sound. “I can’t start second guessing myself. Not in this job. I do and I’m finished.”

Cap’s next words hung in the air, heavy with promise and possibility. “Maybe it’s time you think about getting a different job.”  
*********************  
He really hadn’t meant to push Quinn that hard. Truth be told, he hadn’t intended to get involved at all, but Quinn and Clint’s relationship issues were starting to bleed over into the rest of the team; badly enough that Steve had been left with only two choices: confront Clint and/or Quinn himself or dump the situation in Fury’s lap. He hadn’t needed Tony’s raised eyebrows to tell him which course of action was preferable.

Now that it was all out in the open, he had to admit that he felt better about having a man like Jonah Quinn around his team. The issue of eight dead men had bothered him even more deeply than he’d realized – and when he’d seen Clint’s shocked expression he knew he’d done the right thing dragging the issue forcibly into the light. They needed to know how Quinn really felt about what he’d done, because all hormonal concerns aside a man who could execute eight helpless men and walk away without a twinge of regret was nobody they needed to take into their lives and hearts.

“Careful, Captain,” Quinn said into the silence, his voice thick with bitterness. “I’ve heard all the recruiting speeches before, remember?” It was a harsh reminder that Quinn was a man who had been burned by the system Steve served; burned deeply enough that the wounds might never heal.

“I’m not trying to recruit you, Quinn,” he said, letting his demeanor soften towards the man. Clint looked like he was ready to shatter into a million pieces and Steve had no desire to hurt his teammate over this any more than he’d suffered. “I’m just suggesting that you’ve already proven your worth to S.H.I.E.L.D. and the Avengers, and there are three people right here in front of you who can swear to you that second chances are very real and very possible.”

“You haven’t taken a contract in months.” Clint took a few tentative steps away from Natasha and towards Quinn. “You’ve been helping Nat and me instead.”

Quinn licked his lips, his eyes locked on Clint. “That’s, um, part of the reason I came over.” He sighed heavily. “I’ve been offered a job.”

Clint shook his head. “Don’t take it. Please, Quinn – for me. Turn it down.”

The mercenary’s mouth twisted in a wry grin. “You don’t even know the details yet.”

“I don’t care.” The two men were close enough to touch now, and Steve began to feel like he and Natasha were intruding on something far too intimate for outsiders to witness. “I don’t care, Quinn. Turn it down. Please.” He laid a hand on the other man’s bare forearm.

“Why?” Quinn asked. “So we can take our time reminding each other what a bad idea this is?”

There was another long moment of silence. Steve couldn’t see Clint’s face, but something in his expression was unraveling every last bit of Quinn’s self-control. “Actually,” the archer said finally, “I was thinking about some non-traditional recruitment techniques to convince you to stay.”

Steve realized that Nat was watching him just as Quinn leaned down and kissed Clint. “You’ve got balls of steel, Cap,” she said, shaking her head in disbelief.

Smiling, Steve looked back at the two men. They still had a long way to go, but he suspected he’d helped them take a major step towards getting there. “I didn’t push him any place he wasn’t already prepared to go.”


End file.
